Because of Him
by dizappearingirl
Summary: It was his job. It was what he did. It was all he thought half-ghosts were allowed to do. But then he meets her and everything changes. His world expands. His memories begin to return. And he remembers. Remembers who he was, what happened to him, and who was responsible (AU)
1. Except for Her

**Dizgirl: Hello everyone! For those who remember me I apologize for disappearing for four years (yes, I'm pulling that pun). Four years since I last posted something-that's appalling! D: So now I'm correcting it with a story that's been in the works for six years. This was originally a one-shot in my one-shot collection, Dream Themes, that I've been (slowly) developing into a full blown novel. Now that over half of it's written and a chunk is edited, it's time to share. Get ready, readers, this is going to be a long one. :)**

**Enjoy and love! See my profile for a disclaimer.**

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><p><span>Chapter 1: Except for Her<span>

It was my job. A very simple job, but a job nonetheless. I did it very well. That's what _they_ said. I did it well…because of what I was. That was probably the only reason they kept me around. Because I **was** what I was and the only one of my kind. The only one to walk that careful balance between life and death. The only one to be both real and fantasy, warm and cold, solid and insubstantial, allowed and not allowed.

Half-human. Half-ghost. Neither and both.

They didn't fully understand it. I didn't for that matter. How I had become such a strange and unnatural creature was a mystery. I didn't remember anything before this fragile existence of being both dead and alive. Except for pain. I remembered the pain.

But that was behind me now. Now I had a job. Now I had a purpose. Now I had people who needed me. Though it was tedious and sometimes downright frustrating, I did my job because that was the only way they would want me. No one liked me; I was tainted, neither human nor ghost. But _they_ needed me. These people needed me and so I served my purpose and fulfilled my job.

_They_ were a small group of humans that never stayed in one place for too long. Even now, after almost two years of following them and helping them, I still didn't know what they did. I only knew that they moved from place to place and did things in secret. Secret things in dark rooms with whispered voices. I was never invited to these gatherings, but I didn't really care. That was when my job was most important.

I was their look-out, their scout, their watch tower. Wherever they hid, in run-down apartments, underground sewers, condemned houses, I was always on guard. Most of the time my job meant nothing more than floating around and watching people walk by on a nearby street or rats scavenge empty subterranean tunnels. But sometimes it meant keeping curious and suspicious eyes away from our hideout. Even though an unexpected visit—whether it was a highly alert cop or a gang of drunken teenagers—was bad news for those who I protected, I couldn't help but find the break from the monotony of standing guard exciting. My job **changed** when unwanted company appeared.

I would float invisible, watching the visitors to see what they would do. If they reached a point dangerously close to our hideout, I would jump into action. The temperature would drop as I slowly spread invisible waves of spectral energy like a thick fog over the area. Goosebumps would rise across their arms and the hairs on the backs of their necks would stand up. If I really stretched myself, they would begin to shiver and their breath would fog in the air. I never felt the cold.

Next I would begin to moan, low mourning moans that reverberated deep in my chest. I'd wail and groan, softly at first, but quickly building up until I was practically shrieking at the intruders. The supernatural sounds that I made were enough to send most people packing—even **I** could scare myself with the bizarre howls that would erupt from my throat if I really tried. Not many could stand up to such harassment.

But for the few brave souls that managed to throw off my verbal attacks, I had to create new ways to scare them. It wasn't very often that a cold draft and a few whimpers and cries wouldn't drive them away, but every so often there was someone too prideful or ignorant to heed my warnings. I quickly learned how to frighten even those stubborn visitors.

Sometimes I would scrape my nails along the walls or kick a stray rock or can so that it rolled across the room. I never showed myself and the absence of anything "real" would frighten most of them away. Other times—for the **really** stubborn intruders—I would whisper to them, floating close to where they stood and brushing my icy fingers across their arms and necks. I didn't really like doing it, but it always worked. No one stayed after I touched them. No one could handle that. Not even _they_ would touch me in either of my forms.

No one…except for her.

The first time I saw her was on a late afternoon as I guarded a large, abandoned warehouse on the edge of a small city. _They_ were busy plotting in a second building that was connected to the warehouse while I stood watch among the rotting crates and rusting machines. It was one of the better places we had been because there was plenty of room for me to fly around and practice my other abilities. If I was careful I could even turn visible without worrying about someone seeing me.

But then she walked in with another boy, forcing me to disappear again. I was mad. They were ruining my fun. And worse, the two of them seemed to be having fun themselves. She was smiling as the boy chatted energetically about something—I couldn't make out what. He waved his arms dramatically, fully engrossed in his storytelling. Yet, even though he was the more animated of the two, I hardly noticed him compared to her.

She wore all black with purple tights. The black matched her cropped hair and the purple her eyes. Her eyes…they were the most peculiar shade of amethyst. I had never seen eyes like that before. And not only their color, but the way they lit up with her smile and yet still seemed to contain that light even when she scowled. That was completely new to me. Not one of _them_ had eyes like that.

I floated invisibly above them as the conversation slowly trailed off and the two finally became aware of their surroundings. The girl's eyes continued to shine, but with curiosity this time. The boy pushed up his glasses and swallowed nervously. I let myself drift down so that I was close enough to hear what he said.

"Are you sure we should be here? Coming to a place like this alone is really asking for it."

"Wimp," the girl jibed, peering around the shadowy building. "What are you afraid of? A ghost?" I flinched at the word, but her tone confused me. It sounded like it was supposed to be mocking, but instead she just sounded excited.

"That'd make your day, wouldn't it?" the boy muttered back, cautiously following her as she wandered around. It took me a few minutes to remember that I was supposed to be scaring these two away from the warehouse. It was my job. I couldn't slack off now, even if I was curious myself.

I pulled out the spectral energy that resided within me and let it waft across the room. Slowly, the chill draft drifted over the two and they shivered. The boy stopped and hugged his arms to his chest. The girl bit her lip and paused next to her friend, her expression hesitant but not yet afraid.

"You feel that?" she whispered. "It's still summer and it's **cold**."

"Guess the stories are true," the boy agreed quickly. "Can we go now?"

"Do you think it's actually a ghost—a **real** one?" She ignored his question, a grin spreading over her face. Why was she excited? Shouldn't she be nervous? No one liked ghosts and I was making it pretty clear there was one in here. Yet she continued to look around with eager anticipation.

"If it is, it sure doesn't want us around. Come on, let's **go**," he said with a frown, his teal eyes darting around the "empty" warehouse. Yes, that was how most humans reacted to me. They would feel my energy and then they'd run. I sighed, waiting for the girl to agree and for both of them to leave, but instead she remained where she was.

"Maybe the air is just always cold around them and he's actually friendly," she replied, rubbing her goose bump covered arms. I stared at her. Sure, some people were stubborn enough to ignore the cold, but always with scornful scoffs about how ghosts couldn't even exist. She seemed to believe we were real, but she wasn't scared? Could a human actually…not hate ghosts?

"What? Like 'Casper the friendly ghost'?" the boy quipped, cynicism clear in his voice. I frowned, a ripple of static energy fizzled around me. Okay, the girl was interesting. The boy definitely was not. Time for my next trick.

Sucking in a deep breath, I let out a soft moan that echoed nicely across the abandoned warehouse. The low sound seemed to shimmer in the air, and I could see how the hairs raised up on the backs of their necks. They exchanged uneasy looks and the boy turned towards the exit.

"Let's **go**," he whispered fiercely.

"Not **yet**," she responded with equal intensity.

"**I** am." He spun around and practically sprinted out of the building. I wasn't surprised; my wail was definitely eerie, which is exactly what I wanted.

The girl sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. "Wimp," she muttered.

A smile tugged at my lips, but I quickly pressed them together when I realized what I was doing, cutting off the ghostly noise. No, I reminded myself. I could not afford to like intruders—especially stubborn ones that wouldn't leave **despite** the unnatural sounds I was making. Maybe she didn't fear ghosts. **Maybe**. But she was making my job difficult. And even if she thought ghosts were 'friendly' she wouldn't think so when she met one. That I knew.

"Sorry about my friend," the girl suddenly spoke up. My eyes snapped back to her. She was apologizing for her friend leaving? But that was what I was supposed to make happen. Why would she apologize? I watched her intently as she slowly twirled around, her purple eyes scanning the warehouse carefully. Was she looking for me? The thought sent an uneasy shiver down my spine.

"He's just a little too practical for the supernatural," she continued. "Me, on the other hand…" She trailed off and smiled knowingly. I was completely baffled by the look and her comments. So, she wasn't "too practical"? What was that supposed to mean? Who **was** this girl?

I let myself drop to the floor, trying to force myself to focus and decide which tactic to use next; should I move objects around invisibly or scratch my nails against the crate next to her? But…what if that didn't work either? What if nothing scared her? What if she really wasn't afraid of ghosts? What would I do?

I shook my head, taking a deep breath. No, she **thought** she wasn't afraid, but I could change that. Maybe my next few tries wouldn't work, but I knew one way that was guaranteed to scare her off. If I did it, she'd come to fear and hate ghosts. Just like _them_, like that boy, like every intruder that dared cross my path. I sighed. It was the best way to make her leave. It was also the only strategy I used that I didn't really like.

I turned my attention back on the girl, and had to stifle a gasp. She was much closer than she had been originally. She now stood only a few feet from where I was, her eyes closed in concentration. I watched her take another step in my direction before I realized what she was doing. She was feeling me out! It was possible since I was the coldest thing in the building, but no one had done that before.

"Are you still there?" she inquired, her eyes opening to survey the area around her. "I won't hurt you…" I bit my lip. Of course she couldn't hurt **me**, but I was about to give her the scare of her life! Guilt sank through me like a small weight. I really didn't like doing this. But…I couldn't back down now. It was my job.

Before I could lose my nerve I took a few steps forward, my boots not even making an indentation in the thick dirt on the cement floor. I reached out my hand tentatively just a foot away from her shoulder. She seemed to freeze as my hand hovered there.

I held my breath, though I didn't even need it, and brushed my gloved fingers across her bare arm. A long shiver ran down her spine and her amethyst eyes popped open. I grimaced at the emotions swirling within them, but I knew that I needed to do one more thing to make sure she left. Then it would be over and I wouldn't have to deal with this anymore.

In the lowest and scariest voice I could make I hissed, "Go away!" I abruptly turned around and pulled my feet off the ground so that I floated in the stale warehouse air. But before I could fly up into the rafters or some other dark corner of the building, I was stopped as something very warm and solid latched onto my wrist. I whirled around, so shocked by the strange feeling that I lost control over my powers and turned visible.

Looking down I saw a hand holding my arm tightly and my gaze slowly rose until it rested on the girl's face. The girl had grabbed me! Instead of running and screaming or even just standing there in surprise and horror, she had **grabbed** me! I gaped at her as her eyes studied my white hair, black jumpsuit, and glowing eyes.

"Wait," she breathed. "Don't go." Go? I couldn't even move. I was frozen by her touch. No one touched me. No one wanted to come **near** me, let alone reach out and grab me! That's why touching someone was my last resort. No one liked it. No one did it.

Except for her.


	2. Company of Ghosts

**Dizgirl: Yay chapter two! Thank you so much for the reviews and favorites/follows! I'm glad to see a few people are interested in this. :) I forgot to mention before, I plan to update about every two weeks-as long as I can keep up with the editing! Also, we'll be jumping between different POV's so keep an eye on the names at the beginning of the scenes.**

**E****njoy and love!**

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><p><span>Chapter 2: Company of Ghosts<span>

_**Sam**_

"Are you still there?" I asked in the deafening silence. I opened my eyes and glanced around. Dusty crates were piled around me, their contents long forgotten by whoever had owned them. They were stacked two high and that meant they were just a few inches taller than me. It made this place feel like a maze. A silent, dangerous maze. But that didn't matter; I could feel the faint chill of what I thought was the ghost still emanating up ahead.

"I won't hurt you…" I added. Could a ghost be afraid? I had never thought about that before. Then again, I hadn't thought much about ghosts before I had moved to this town. At least not as an actual possibility. When I found out that ghosts were considered something real and very much present in Amity Park I couldn't help but want to meet one. Now I had my chance.

Maybe. Hopefully.

The cold presence suddenly loomed close to me. I paused, not daring to move an inch as I felt the chill radiating from it brush against me, sending goose bumps up my arms. My eyes were half-closed in concentration and through my lashes I searched the area where I knew it was. Nothing. Not a hint of something standing there. Not even a shadow.

Then, I felt a light touch on my right arm. When it made contact I felt a spark of energy like a static discharge. My eyes snapped open in surprise. A strange iciness accompanied the small shock and I shivered. It was at least ninety degrees outside but I felt like it was late autumn. The time of year when a chill crept into the day and the sun lost its warming strength. The touch disappeared as quickly as it came.

"Go away!" a frigid voice rasped in a menacing tone. It echoed at the edges but not in the same way as when a person's voice echoed off the walls and floor in a large room. It was more like it was echoing from some other place, far away. Faint but very much there.

The combination of the tingling touch and whispered command made me feel slightly light-headed. I stood frozen, trying to comprehend what I was feeling. Adrenaline pounded through my system and I felt an instinctual desire to run from the strange thing that had touched me. My mind, on the other hand, whirled with excitement at the possibilities. There really was a ghost here and I was just inches away from it! How cool was it that the others at school were actually right? (How unusual too.) Tucker would regret bailing on me after he heard about this!

I was still trying to decide how to react when I was interrupted with the realization that the presence—the ghost—was withdrawing. It was like someone had rubbed a balloon across my arm and now was pulling it away from me. It was the faintest tug. A cold static cling left by its touch. Urgency bordering on panic overtook me. I was just coming to terms with the fact that I was in the company of ghosts; it couldn't leave now! I reached out and grabbed blindly at where I believed it was. My hand found something and I gripped it tightly. I felt a jerk but it wasn't very strong and I held on.

Abruptly a figure faded into view, floating in the air above me so that his knees were level with my eyes. I stared at him—it was definitely a him—in awe. My eyes were immediately drawn to his, which were wide with shock. They were green, alight with a supernatural glow that mesmerized me. I could only pull my gaze away long enough to take in his lean build and brilliant white hair before I was drawn back to their green glow. I had always loved the color green.

My hand tingled where it was touching his arm and the feeling only added to the lingering dizzy sensation from before. I felt like I was almost in a dream, a dream that could fade away any second and take him with it. "Wait," I whispered to him. "Don't go…"

He didn't move an inch, hanging motionless in the stale air with his eyes still pinned on me. Was he doing what I asked or was I right before and I had scared him? The idea was almost funny. Sure, girls at school told me I was scary but they only said that because I dressed differently and didn't follow them in their mindless quest for 'flawless' beauty. I didn't really frighten them—at least not yet. I had often considered the option…

But, here I was standing in the middle of an abandoned warehouse, hand around the wrist of a ghost—a **ghost**—and he seemed to be the one who was scared. I swallowed, trying to figure out what to say. I hadn't really thought about what I would do if I actually met a ghost. Honestly, I wasn't sure Kwan had been telling the truth when he said this place was haunted…

"_Hey Sam, are you gonna eat that?" Tucker asked, looking pointedly at the meatloaf slopped onto my school tray. I scrutinized the pile of what was supposed to be meat for a few seconds, my lip curling with disgust. They didn't just kill and cook an animal to make this. They __**massacred**__ it. _

"_Be my guest," I said as I shoved the tray across the table towards him. A grin spread over his face and he stuck his fork into the brown mush. I looked away, my stomach turning queasily and effectively destroying the last of my appetite. _

"_Why did I have to forget my lunch?" I groaned under my breath. "Salad, grapes, berries, and homemade bread! __**Why**__?" _

"_Y'know…the foo' naw tha' bad," Tucker attempted to tell me around a mouthful of the meatloaf. I would have given him a look but that meant seeing the food again. _

"_I'll stick with my organically grown vegetables and fruits, thank you. They're much healthier and they don't require killing innocent animals." _

"_Innocent but __**tasty**__ animals," he corrected. I opened my mouth to argue when I was interrupted by a chorus of squeals from the table next to us. _

"_Are you __**serious**__?" asked someone. "You saw a ghost?" The last word caught my attention and I turned around to see Paulina, Star, Dash, and the rest of the "popular" gang huddled around Kwan who looked pale. _

"_Well, I didn't actually __**see**__ it," he replied to Star's question, "but it got really cold and then I could hear this moaning sound..." I slid along my bench until I was at the end closest to them. Tucker sent me a questioning look but I waved my hand to stop him from speaking. Most of the time we were invisible to this group and I liked it that way. Less petty arguments. But I did want to hear Kwan's story…_

_The girls gasped but Dash smirked. "You just got scared of being alone in there! You didn't even stay inside for a minute!" _

"_Hey! You would be scared too if you were alone with a ghost!" _

"_There was no ghost!' _

"_Yeah, there was!" The boys were sitting next to each other and were now face to face, their noses only a few inches apart. _

"_I didn't see anything!" _

"_That's 'cause you wouldn't go inside!" _

_I sighed impatiently. This argument was quickly devolving and someone had to get it back on track if I was ever to hear the ending. A glance at the girls confirmed they wouldn't be the ones to do it. I considered just leaving it be, but I wanted to hear about this ghost. I had never seen one before despite the fact I had been living in Amity Park for a year and a half. Maybe this was my chance. _

_So much for remaining invisible…_

"_Where were you?" I interrupted the two jocks. The whole group paused and then their faces turned towards me, various versions of surprise on their faces. _

_Paulina's expression quickly turned into disdain. "Why do __**you**__ care?" _

_I scowled back at her. "I was just asking."_

"_Well it's none of your business, but he was down by the docks. Y'know, where those creepy buildings are." _

"_And you found a ghost?" I ignored her and looked directly at Kwan. _

"_Yeah, it was creepy…" he replied slowly. _

"_A __**real**__ ghost?" _

"_Duh," Star scoffed. "What else?" I had to resist telling her that outside of Amity Park the idea of ghosts being real, actual tangible—so to speak—beings, was laughable. _

"_Dash doesn't seem to agree," I countered. Everyone looked back at the blonde quarterback, waiting to see if he would support his football buddy or stick to his earlier claim. He quickly chose the former. _

"_Whatever Kwan says he saw, he saw," he told me. "Got it?"_

"_Which building did you see it in?" I directed the question again to Kwan. _

"_Ugh, why are you so interested anyways?" Star snapped. _

"_She's a goth freak," Paul said. "Ghosts and creepy things are, like, her thing." _

_The shrill ring of the bell stopped me from retorting back, and everyone reluctantly stood up to dump their trays and head to class. I watched Kwan's retreating form and quickly made up my mind. As much as I hated Paulina, she was right about one thing. Ghosts were definitely up my alley and I wanted to know if he really had found one. I stood up. _

"_I'll be right back," I told Tucker before hurrying after Kwan. _

Kwan had told me that he had gone inside the last warehouse in a row of them that had been abandoned by the docks. I had never been near the place, but as soon as school was done I dragged Tucker along to check it out. He was against the idea but I managed to distract him with an argument about the best tactics to use to reach the last level of Doomed and he didn't realize we were at the warehouse until we walked inside the warped door.

And then...then it went cold. Tucker bailed on me within seconds. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. He avoided anything that had to do with ghosts. They brought back bad memories. Ones that he wanted to forget. That was what he had told me at least, though I still didn't know what the full story was behind that. But not me. I wanted to learn more and now I finally had my chance!

"Um…" I started, refocusing on the floating boy. "Hi." He blinked but remained silent. Could ghosts talk? I thought they could. But maybe he couldn't. Or maybe he just didn't like to. I waited, unsure of what to say next. What was the protocol when you met a spirit? Did you introduce yourself? Shake hands? I looked down at where I was gripping his arm. Well I suppose we were past that.

I felt a blush creep up my neck as I realized how awkward I had made this for him. A random girl intrudes on where he's haunting and then suddenly grabs him when he comes close. And now she's trying to make conversation while still hanging on to him! I quickly released my grip and took a small step back.

"Sorry!" I said. "I didn't mean to. I just wasn't—I didn't want...um…" He watched me with those glowing eyes as I rambled, touching the wrist I had been holding with his other hand. His face had been blank before but now it slowly changed. He seemed confused, a little afraid, and something else I couldn't quite name. But he still didn't speak and it was starting to unnerve me.

"I…I just…" I continued hesitantly, before finally blurting out, "I wanted to meet you." His eyes widened again and he floated back a few inches. He looked around quickly and then back at me.

"W-why?" he asked after a few seconds. His voice was slightly raspy and had that same echo from before, though it was almost too faint to hear.

**Why?** What did he mean why? Why not?

I repeated my thought out loud. "Why not?" His confusion only seemed to deepen and he opened his mouth to say something else when he suddenly jerked his head to his right. Had he heard something? Everything seemed just as quiet and still as before. It made it feel like we were the only two people in the world.

But apparently I must have missed something because he whipped his face back towards me, looking afraid. "You need to leave! You can't be here!" he told me, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Go! Leave!"

"Why?" I asked. "Is someone coming?"

He started to nod and then seemed to cut off the motion. Instead he gestured at the door that Tucker and I had entered through earlier. "Leave!" He commanded.

"Who is it? Who's coming?"

"Go! Just please go! You can't be here. It's my job."

"What's your job? Who is it?" I was completely baffled. What was going on? Why was he so scared all of a sudden? What could a ghost be afraid of? That thought sent a little shiver of fear through me. If a ghost was scared of something, what should **I **be? But I wasn't afraid. At least not yet.

He was still waving at me to leave, making pushing gestures in the air though he never actually touched me. "**Please**," he pleaded. "You can't be here."

I bit my lip but nodded and started to make my way to the door reluctantly. He followed behind me in the air, shooting glances over his shoulder at the back end of the building. I reached the entrance and opened the door just wide enough for me to slip through. Sunlight splashed across us and I turned back towards him. For just a moment as I looked at his face I thought I saw the colors of his eyes shift. I blinked but when I looked back they were still the same neon green as before.

Trick of the light? I shrugged it off and asked, "Can I come back later?" He had been looking back again but my question grabbed his full attention.

"What?"

"Can I see you again?" I repeated. He stared at me, apparently at a loss for words, and then shook his head.

"No. You can't come here. You're not allowed."

"Why not?"

He sent another anxious look behind him, before answering distractedly, "It's my job."

"What about at night?"

He shook his head again while also shrugging helplessly like he didn't have an answer. "Just go," he said. "Please!" I wanted to argue but he looked so nervous, I felt I had to agree. At least for now.

I gave another nod and stepped out the door. He grabbed the handle to pull it shut and sent me one last look, that same unreadable expression from before crossing his face briefly before he swung it shut with a low squeal.

I stood outside the warehouse, letting the past twenty minutes sink in. I had met a ghost. A real ghost. It was almost unbelievable, dreamlike. But…I curled the hand that had grabbed his wrist into a fist. I could still weakly feel the tingling sensation from when we had touched. It was like an echo—the same kind of echo that was there in his voice. There, but not there. It was one of the coolest sensations I had ever felt.

I had to see him again.

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><p><em><strong>The Ghost Boy<strong>_

I held onto the rusted handle of the door for a few seconds, trying to process what had just happened. I still couldn't believe she had grabbed me—and then she hung **on**to me! And then she let me go and I thought that maybe I had finally scared her. Maybe she had finally realized what I was. I had waited for her to run, scream, cry even, but no. All she said was…

"Where are you? Show yourself." I twisted around and looked for the source of the familiar voice. I had heard her coming, which is why I made the girl with the purple eyes leave, but the voice still made my stomach clench with apprehension. I didn't like the owner of that voice very much.

But I couldn't resist an order. I floated higher into the air so that I was above the crates stacked around the room. In the middle of them was the only woman in the group that I guarded. She stood, one hand on her hips, looking around carefully. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and a pair of sunglasses rested on top of her head. As I moved closer she spotted me and she gave me a smile. A smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"There you are," she said before flicking the sunglasses down onto her nose, hiding her cold gaze from view. That was okay. I didn't like when our eyes met. Her stare made me feel like she was either laughing at me or that she hated me. Or both. It gave me chills.

"Go to the back. It's time for an interview." She tilted her head in the direction she had come from and then turned towards the front. I hesitated as I watched her walk away. Who would do my job while I was gone? Usually they told me when I was relieved. I licked my lips, trying to decide if I should ask her, though I didn't want to if I could help it. I looked around, trying to see if the others were nearby.

"Don't keep him waiting, Halfa," she called to me, before opening the door that the girl had left through earlier. I waited for a second longer, now afraid that the girl would still be outside and _they_ would realize I had almost failed my job. But she didn't return, and I knew I had to do what she said.

I flew over to the door in the back. It led into another building that was attached to the back end of the warehouse. The sign over the door had been partially ripped away and now the only part left said "r Offices." This was where _they_ met. I was not allowed back here unless they told me to go. And only if someone else could do my job. That responsibility was my top priority.

I dropped to the ground and opened the door. They didn't like it when I floated around. They wanted me to walk like them. But they didn't like me changing to my human side either. I wasn't human, I wasn't ghost. I couldn't act like either even though I was both. It was very confusing.

The door led into a hallway with five doors, three on the left and two on the right. I paused. I knew where to go, but I didn't like leaving the warehouse unguarded. Fortunately, the door closest to me on the right opened and out stepped another one of _them_. He was the tallest in the group and well-muscled. His dark hair was cut very short and neatly. I called him the Big Man.

I had a nickname for each. The Big Man…the Ice Woman... I used those so I wouldn't use their real names. I couldn't say them, even though I knew what they were. People can find other people if they know their names. I had to protect _them_, so I never said their names out loud. It wasn't hard to do; I was never around anyone but _them_ and I never spoke to anyone. Well, except for the purple-eyed girl. Today had been the first time I had spoken in a while.

"I'll watch," said the Big Man. His voice was deep and there was a hint of an accent. I liked it when he spoke. It had an interesting sound to it and he didn't speak as sharply as the others. Plus, he was usually the one to take over my job when I was asked to do something else.

I nodded, relief washing through me. We walked past each other and I headed for the second door on the left. I knocked on it softly and after a few seconds _his_ voice answered.

"Come in."

I entered quietly and looked around the room. It had been an office before and still had the filing cabinets along the walls and a desk in the center. Behind the metal desk sat _him_. He was the leader. I followed him and what he told me to do. No matter what. He was the one who said where we were going next or who was going to do what. He was the one who gave me my job.

I walked up until I stood on the other side of the desk and stopped. He studied me for a few minutes and I looked down at his desk as I waited. Papers were scattered around in haphazard piles, some with writing on them and others with drawings. They were upside down and the lighting was dim enough that it was difficult to make out what was written on them—not that I really tried. That wasn't for me to know.

The only other objects on the desk were a lamp and a black wooden box. I instantly recognized the object and my eyes darted away to the floor. I didn't like the thing that was inside. It gave me a strange feeling.

"Did anything change today?" he finally asked. I felt my whole body tense. Did he know? Did he know about the boy and the girl? That the girl wasn't scared of me and that she talked to me. That I talked back. I wasn't sure what his reaction would be to that. I was supposed to scare people away so they wouldn't know _they_ were there. The girl did leave, but she wanted to come back. I hoped she didn't.

But, a small part of me kind of liked the idea. I squashed the thought. No, she couldn't come back. That was wrong, that would be failing at my job. Besides, who knew how long her interest would last. Surely she had to become scared or disgusted of me at some point, right? No one liked ghosts, especially not half-ghosts. I didn't want to deal with that.

"Did something happen today?" he pressed, his tone hardening with impatience. I was torn, part of me wanting to keep the girl a secret but the rest of me wanting to confess what had happened. I didn't hide things from him. His voice grew tighter as he continued, "Ever since that boy wandered in here a few days ago…well, I don't want any more surprises. So, did anything **change**?"

I opened my mouth and then hesitated again. His hand reached out to the box, undid the clasp, and opened the lid. I was still looking at the floor but I could see the faint red glow coming out from the corner of my eye. "**Answer** **me**."

A prickling sensation swept over me. It was similar to how I felt when I changed between my ghost and human form. A subtle shimmer of energy. As it moved through me, I relaxed. The tension inside me leaked away. All of the anxiety, all of the fear and uncertainty disappeared. I couldn't even really remember why I was so afraid. It didn't matter. All that mattered was my job. And that I listened to _him_. I always had to listen to what he said.

"Well?" he prompted. I raised my gaze so I met his eyes. Eyes that reflected the red glow of the box.

"There were two teenagers," I reported. "The boy left quickly, the girl…stayed a while, but she left. I made her leave."

"Did she see anything? Hear anything?"

Yes, that's right. That was what I had to make sure happened. No one could know _they_ were there. I kept them safe by making sure people stayed away. I made her go away. I had made a mistake and I had almost mentioned _them_, but she hadn't seen them or heard them. I made her leave before that. She wouldn't come back anyways. Why would she? No one liked ghosts.

"No," I answered.

He was silent for a moment and then nodded. "Good. We can't have anyone finding us. Not now, not when we're so close." His hands clenched into fists, his face angled towards the desk. After a few moments he looked back up at me shrewdly.

"I suppose you should sleep." He smiled humorlessly. "If people are sneaking about, we need you at peak performance, don't we? Donovan can take over for a few hours. Go sleep. He will wake you when you're needed again."

He focused again on the papers and I turned to leave. As I opened the door, he spoke again. "Be extra vigilant tonight. We can't have anyone finding us. Remember, that is your job."

"Yes," I said.


	3. She Came Back

**Dizgirl: Onward to chapter three! :D Not much to say, so let's just get rollin'! Enjoy and love!**

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><p><span>Chapter 3: She Came Back<span>

_**Sam**_

"Come on, Tucker," I called as I tried to follow him through the crowded hallway, ducking between groups of students spilling out from the classrooms on both sides. "You can't tell me you're not interested in what happened yesterday."

"Yeah, I can," he said over his shoulder before muscling his way through a group of band kids. I sighed as I maneuvered my way around them and then broke into a jog to catch up to him.

"But I saw a **ghost**," I leaned in close so that I didn't have to say it too loud. Not that I cared what other people thought of me, but the people in this town were strangely jumpy around that word. I guess they had a good reason to be. Amity Park had always been considered "haunted," but over the last year, more and more ghost sightings were being reported. Some people (I'll admit, even myself) had been skeptical, but the amount of witnesses kept rising until it wasn't something people could ignore. I know I couldn't anymore. As of yesterday I was one of those witnesses.

"I don't care," Tucker replied curtly. "I don't want to hear about it."

"How can you not want to hear about it?"

"I'm just not into the ghost thing, okay?" He reached his locker and opened the lock. He added with a serious look, "You know that."

"Yeah," I sighed, leaning back against the wall of lockers. "Though you still won't tell me why."

"I don't want to talk about it."

I had known him for a year and a half now and that had always been his response when anyone brought it up. Something had happened during the semester before we met and whatever it was, it was traumatic enough that he refused to talk about it with anyone. All anyone knew was that it had to do with his best friend disappearing two months into the school year.

Tucker's silence on the subject spurred a variety of rumors, and I had heard them all when I came in halfway through seventh grade. Some said the boy had run away, others said he had been kidnapped. Some went as far as to say that he had died. Under that assumption the rumors really took a turn for the macabre, saying that the boy had died a violent death and was now a ghost that roamed the halls of the school. Or that he was haunting Tucker himself. I was pretty sure that was why he was so against anything ghostly. Who wanted to hear about ghosts when your missing friend was one of those stories?

I didn't give much credit to the rumors when I moved into town and I befriended Tucker anyways. I was glad I did. We hit it off pretty well (for the most part anyways) and I think we both needed a friend at the time; me because I was new and didn't know anyone and him because he needed someone who didn't know his former friend, someone who wouldn't ask him about it.

And that was how our friendship had been since then. But now, after a year and a half, I couldn't help but wish he'd tell me what had happened. Who had been his friend? Did he know the truth behind his disappearance? Why did no one else know? I brought it up periodically but it almost always led to a tense silence like the one currently between us. I would back down at that point because it wasn't really my place to force him to tell me. I was his friend, not his therapist. I would just have to wait until he was ready. If he ever was.

Tucker slammed his locker closed and I followed him towards our next class. "So," he said. "Did you finish the paper for Mr. Lancer's class yet?"

It was an obvious change of subject but I let it slide. "Not yet but it's not due for another couple days so I should be fine. You?"

"I have some of it done, but still have lots more to do. Wanna get together and have a homework night?

"And actually only do a little bit of it and instead get caught up in some video game?" I replied wryly. We shared a grin.

"Yeah, probably."

We entered Mr. Falluca's class and headed for our seats. I sat down and started to pull out what I needed, my thoughts turning to tonight. Getting together with Tucker sounded great, but I had planned on trying to go back to the warehouse. I had wanted to go back last night but I thought maybe it would be better for the ghost boy if I waited. He had been so determined that I left and he didn't exactly seem happy at the idea of my coming back.

But it was a mystery too good to pass up. Tucker and I could hang out at any time, but who knew how long the ghost boy would be at the warehouse? What if he just disappeared? Faded from view and never returned? I had to try to see him again, even if just one more time.

I looked over at Tuck and gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry Tucker. I just remember I have something else I need to do tonight."

* * *

><p>I left my house after dinner. There was a slightly sticky moment when my parents asked me where I was going. I couldn't tell them the truth. <em>Mom, Dad, I'm going to the abandoned warehouses down by the docks at the edge of town where there isn't anyone around and where shady people probably hang out so I can go find a ghost. <em>Yeah…I don't think so. Instead, I told them I was going to Tucker's.

It was a lie and a call to the Foley's would make that clear but I wasn't too concerned. I went to Tucker's all the time and as long as I was back before curfew, they wouldn't have any reason to call my cell or the Foley's house. And hopefully, if they did call the house, Tuck would cover for me. Hopefully.

A bus trip, another block, and a jump over the fence that surrounded the docks later I made it to my destination. The row of warehouses was intimidating at night. There were floodlights on the walls of the buildings but not all of them were working. Their bright lights threw everything in sharp contrast, making the shadows blacker and the edges of everything harder. I nervously jogged across the open concrete walkways between the buildings, hyperaware of the loud clomping noise my combat boots made as I went. Fortunately no one was around that I could see and I safely reached the one at the end of the row.

The door I had entered earlier was shut and I paused outside it. The ghost had wanted me to leave yesterday, so he probably wouldn't be happy that I had come back. I'd have to be careful; people here always warned about getting on the wrong side of a ghost. But I was pretty sure he had acted that way because of whatever had spooked him yesterday. Before that he had seemed willing to talk and he hadn't tried to attack me or anything. Even if he didn't like that I came back I wasn't worried for my safety.

I hesitated a second longer and then pulled down on the handle. I was already here; I might as well go inside and see what happened. The door opened with a squeal that would have been quiet except that the entire area was silent. I grimaced and glanced around. No one appeared so I took that as a sign that I really was the only one here. Well, the only living one anyways.

I entered the darkened warehouse and slowly closed the door behind me. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dimness and then examined the large room for any signs of movement. I couldn't see anything, no hint of white hair or glowing green eyes, so I switched my focus to how I felt. The hot summer day had turned into a warm summer night. I couldn't sense any particular cool spot.

Was I alone?

"Hello?" I called. Nothing answered, I couldn't hear anything beyond the faint creak of the building itself. I took a few steps into the room, all of my senses taunt and alert for any change. Where was he?

Abruptly, I felt a wave of cold wash over me. I stopped as my body shivered. I tried to pinpoint which direction it came from but it felt like it was coming from everywhere. A voice growled out from the darkness.

"What are you doing here?"

I jumped and looked around, trying to find the source of the sound. "Where are you?" I asked.

"You shouldn't be here. Go away!" he replied harshly.

"But…" I began, his tone deflating the assurance I had collected at the door. Here I was hoping that maybe the timing was just wrong, that he had been nervous because of something yesterday and now we could pick up where we had left off. Now he sounded demanding, almost angry. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the whole thing had been an act just to make me leave. "…I wanted to see you again," I finished quietly.

There was a momentary pause and then he said, "You have to go!" His tone held less venom this time and instead sounded more frustrated.

"But why?" I pressed. "Is it because of the other thing? The person or whatever from yesterday?" He didn't answer and I wondered if that was a yes or no. I couldn't see any movement or light and nothing else had come out even though we were making noise. I was pretty sure we were alone.

"If they're gone why do I have to go?" Again he didn't respond. Maybe he wasn't ever going to answer me. Maybe he **did **want me to leave. I sighed. And just when I had the chance to get to know a ghost….

"Because," his voice called out, his tone almost tentative, "it's my job."

I couldn't help a small relieved smile when I heard his voice. He wasn't ignoring me completely then. And maybe he wasn't angry with me either. "Do you have to do your job all the time?" He did seem rather obsessed with the notion, but maybe that shouldn't surprise me too much. I think I had heard somewhere that ghosts were usually obsessive. Maybe this ghost was 'obsessed' with his 'job'.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because…" his voice trailed off. I waited but he didn't continue. After an awkward minute or so I realized he wasn't going to give me answer. I was curious but maybe it was something he didn't want to talk about. And since he wasn't kicking me out yet I wasn't going to push it.

"That's okay, you don't have to tell me," I assured him. There was another moment of silence and then he faded into view, floating in the air a few feet away to my right. He looked hesitant, confused, anxious, and a whole mess of other emotions all mixed together.

"Are you okay?" I took a step towards him.

"I…I shouldn't," he told me in a shaky voice. He turned away from me, his hands slowly rising up to grip either side of his head. "I'm supposed to make you leave."

"Why?" I automatically responded, but as soon as I said the words I knew what his answer would be. At least if my theory was correct. "Because it's your job?"

He nodded.

"Do…all ghosts have jobs?"

He turned his head and looked at me sideways. "I…um, I don't know." He seemed surprised at the thought.

"Well, I just thought it was strange that you have one," I said. "I mean, you're dead, right? Why do you need to work?" He winced and it took me several moments to recognize why. Maybe death was a sensitive subject for a ghost. Or maybe I insulted his obsession. Before I could apologize, though, he spoke.

"I…it's the only thing I can do," he replied slowly. I'm pretty good at it…well," he tilted his head in my direction, "most of the time."

"No, I'd say you're still pretty good at it. You kinda scared me tonight—just a little."

He frowned. "I should scare you more. I should make you leave."

"Well, I'm glad you haven't…," I tried to smile but his discouraged expression kept it from sticking. "I, uh, I hope you don't."

"I should," he repeated, but this time it didn't really seem directed at me. He looked away again, towards the back of the warehouse. "But I…" he rubbed his face with one hand, "I don't know if I can…you…you're different."

My mouth quirked up in another smile. "Yeah, that's me."

His eyes flitted back to mine. "You don't get scared," he told me. "It's annoying."

I chuckled at his accusatory tone. "Yeah, well, I can't help it. I'm a fan of the dark and the creepy. A ghost doesn't exactly send me running." He made another face at that comment but then his expression shifted from offended to analytical.

"You're not scared of me?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

He stared at me as if expecting me to change my answer and I looked back at him steadily. My phone began to vibrate in my skirt pocket. I ignored it, determined not to break eye contact with the ghost boy until he reacted. After a long moment, he exhaled loudly and rubbed his eyes again. His body sunk down until he was sitting on the top of two crates stacked below him and he let out a quiet groan.

His obvious frustration made me feel a little guilty. It was like I had just told him Santa Claus wasn't real—though, honestly, I had no idea why the idea of me **not** being scared would disappoint him. What was so bad about that? But maybe, if he **was** fixated on scaring people, I was...messing that up? He dropped his hands and looked at me with a troubled expression. I shifted uneasily. Well, whether I understood or not, for some reason I was upsetting him. I glanced around the darkened room, trying to think of a way to lighten the mood or change the subject at least.

"So," I began, "You can turn invisible and you can float. What else can you do?"

I looked back at him, catching the brief flash of surprise that crossed his face. He seemed to mull over the question before finally saying, "I can go through things. Doors, walls, other stuff…"

"Wow," I slowly took a few steps closer and sat down on a smaller crate facing him. "That has to be so cool."

"Yeah," the troubled look faded away and his lips turned up in a faint smile. "But what I really like to do is fly."

I nodded, instantly agreeing that that had to be the best part. "I bet. Are there any limits to that? Y'know, can you only go so high or so long?"

"I dunno," he shrugged. "I never really tried to find out."

"That'd be crazy if you could go as high as a plane—or as fast as one! How fast can you fly?" He shrugged again.

"You should try it some time," I suggested. Before I could ask my next question, I felt another buzz in my pocket. I had completely forgotten about the first call. I pulled out my cell phone and saw the caller was Tucker.

"Just a sec," I told the ghost. I answered the phone. "Hey, Tuck."

"_Hey, your parents called."_

"Crap," I muttered. So the first call was my parents checking in on me. I glanced at the time. Five minutes to curfew. "Crap," I repeated. "Um, what did you tell them?"

"_That you were in the bathroom but you were leaving soon so they could talk to you then." _

Dread quickly turned into relief and I grinned. "Thanks, Tucker. You're the best."

"_Yeah, well you better tell me why I had to cover for you." _

"I will!" I paused and added, "Well, if you **want** to hear about it..." There was a few seconds of silence. I looked up and saw the ghost boy watching me curiously.

Then Tucker said, _"You went back, didn't you?" _Even over the phone I could hear the disapproval in his voice.

"Yeah…"

There was a noise on his end that almost sounded like a growl._ "Sam, don't you think that's a little…dangerous?" _

"No," I replied and then amended, "not really."

He went quiet again for a third time, which was really odd for him. Was he upset? He almost seemed like he was. "Tucker…"

"_Forget it. We can talk about it tomorrow. You better get home right now before your parents call again." _

Yep, he was upset. But he was right; this would have to wait. "Okay, see you tomorrow."

"_Bye." _

I put my phone away and sent an apologetic look at the ghost. "Sorry about that. And uh, sorry, but I have to go. My parents are gonna flip if I'm home late—which, y'know, is probably gonna happen so I better go." He didn't say anything but just watched me as I stood up.

"I…" I looked up at him and then continued, "I want to come back." He pushed himself off of the crates, his brow furrowing. "If that's okay," I added quickly.

He hesitated. "I…don't know. My job…"

"What if I came back at night?"

His eyes darted from me to the back of the warehouse and back. "Um…no, you shouldn't," he said.

"I'll only stay for a little bit when I come," I offered. "And it won't be all the time; I have homework and stuff a lot of nights."

He bit his lip. "I…um, but I'm supposed…" he seemed to struggle to say the words and he ran a gloved hand through his snow white hair. He reopened his eyes and it was like the moment the day before when I had walked outside; just for a moment his eye color had shifted…but it was too quick for me to catch exactly how.

I took a step forward and he floated back a foot, giving me a look that showed he was clearly torn. "I don't know what to do," he admitted. He looked at me pleadingly.

A little taken aback I replied, "Well, obviously I think you should just let me come back." His expression didn't change so I continued more confidently, "And it's not like you're gonna be able to scare me away anyways, right?"

He grimaced at that comment and shrugged helplessly. "I haven't been able to yet."

"Then I guess I can come back," I concluded. "I mean, I know you say I shouldn't but I don't really understand why, so since you won't give me a reason and you're not gonna scare me then I don't see why we can't meet here again." He opened his mouth and then closed it again with another shrug.

"So then I'll see you next time," I said before starting for the door. When I reached it I turned back to find him a few feet behind me, looking thoroughly confused. Not wanting to rehash that conversation I decided to change subjects. "My name's Sam, by the way. What's yours?"

He blinked and then shook his head. "I don't…really have a name."

"You don't have a name?"

"Not really."

"But," I tilted my head to the side, "what do people call you?"

He looked down at his feet, his forehead creased. "They call me a lot of things…they're not…" He shrugged once more, falling silent. There it was again, that reluctance to say something. He did that a lot. I wonder why he was so careful with his words. It was like he thought every word he said was dangerous.

Finally he continued, "Sometimes…they call me Halfa."

"Hafta?" I asked. He shook his head.

"**Half**a."

I honestly couldn't tell the difference and gave him a look that said so. He bit his lip and seemed to think hard.

"Like, uh, like not who—" he cut himself off suddenly, his eyes widening. I gave him a curious look and he quickly sputtered, "Uh…like with an l not a t."

I studied him, still thinking of the odd way he spoke. I almost wanted to ask but he looked so nervous I decided not to push it. Instead I tried again, "Halfa?" He nodded eagerly, looking relieved. I smiled in return. "Okay, well nice to meet you Halfa."

He didn't reply but another very brief almost-smile flitted across his face. He watched me as I left through the door.

* * *

><p>Tucker and I didn't have the chance to talk until lunch time the next day. We sat down across from each other, him with a tray full of the stomach-turning cafeteria food and I with my precious homemade lunch.<p>

"Someday I'm going to change that menu," I told him, "and introduce all of you to some alternative food sources."

"And by 'alternate sources' you mean garbage," he shook his head. "Not if us meat-lovers have anything to say about it."

"Recyclable organic matter," I corrected with a smirk.

"All I know is if it's green and it's not candy, ice cream, or jello, I won't be eating it."

I rolled my eyes as I pulled out my meal. "I'll get a vegetable in you someday."

"The same day I get a steak in you." We gave each other mock glares and then grinned.

"So..." he began, his expression losing its humor. "Get home before the parents flipped?"

"Yeah, barely." I knew that wasn't really what he wanted to talk about, but I decided to let him broach the subject. **He** was the one who didn't want to talk about it yesterday.

"Sam," he looked at my expectantly.

"What?"

"You know what."

"Then say it," I said. "I went and visited the ghost boy last night and, apparently, you have a problem with it, right?"

"Yeah, I do."

"So…" I mirrored his expression. He sighed.

"I don't think you should go there again."

"Why?"

"Because ghosts are dangerous. Bad things can happen to people when they're around ghost stuff."

"Like…?" I knew I was being difficult, but I just didn't understand why **he** was being that way. What was so wrong with hanging around ghosts? I knew that Tucker didn't like them, but as far as I knew that was only because of the rumors going around about what happened two years ago. That didn't mean that **I** had to swear off anything to do with ectoplasm.

Knowing Tucker, though, that couldn't be the reason. He wasn't that petty. So his concern probably had something to do with the general attitude of the people here in Amity Park. Ghosts were real and they could be dangerous. I'm sure they were right, some ghosts probably were, but this one? Halfa? The image of his face twisted into confusion and anxiety popped into my head. Dangerous was **not** the word that brought to mind.

"Just trust me, okay?" Tucker said, his tone a mix of annoyance and concern. "I'm not saying this to be a jerk or anything. I just don't want you to get hurt."

I sighed, my frustration fading away. I couldn't stay mad at him when I knew he meant well. "I know, but I don't think this ghost is like that, Tuck. He's not dangerous. Honestly, he's not even that scary."

Tucker didn't say anything.

"Why don't you come with me," I suggested. "If you met him, you'd see."

He made a face. "No."

"But—"

"—I'm not going, Sam."

I sighed again at the finality in his tone, and nodded. Then I asked, "Can you at least cover for me if I need you to?"

He looked down at his lunch, and I could tell he was deliberating. Finally, he nodded. "Yeah, I can do that."

"Thanks."

"But," he raised his eyes to mine, "only as long as you seem okay. If anything weird happens, I can't promise anything."

Though I felt he was being a little dramatic, I was also happy to know he was looking out for me. Tucker really was a great friend. I gave him a warm smile. "Deal."


	4. Keeping a Secret

**Dizgirl: Whoa...formatting seems different this time. Hope it comes out all right. Anyways, welcome to chapter four. :D This is the longest one yet! Could've shortened it, but I thought it was a good ending point. Plus, it gives you more to think about. Heheh...**

**Enjoy and love!**

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><p><span>Chapter 4: Keeping a Secret<span>

_**Halfa**_

_A long hallway stretched before me, doors spaced out along the walls. Up ahead I could see openings that appeared to be the entrances to other hallways or rooms. I didn't know this place. I didn't know where I was. I was lost. _

_I reached out for the closest door but when I pulled on the handle it didn't budge. It was locked. I tried the next with the same result. I started moving quicker, checking each door on both sides. Each of them was locked. I pulled and twisted at the handles, trying to force one of them open, but they didn't. _

_I reached one of the openings on my left and a look around the corner confirmed that it was another hallway. Another corridor full of doors. I turned into it and started trying doors. They were the same, locked and solidly shut. Where was I? What was going on? Why was I here?_

_I began to jog, slamming a hand down on each handle as I passed it. One of them had to be open, right? They couldn't all be locked. I veered into another hallway on the right and continued my search for an open door. THUNK. THUNK. THUNK, went each handle as I tried to push them down. None of them gave in. None of them were open. _

_Panic rose up inside me. I was lost and I was __**trapped**__. There was no way out. I couldn't find an exit. I would be trapped here forever, always searching for an open door and never finding it. I slowed down and stopped in the intersection of two hallways. I spun around, looking to see if anything was different but all I could see were doors. Doors everywhere. _

_And then suddenly the lights flickered. I froze as I was plunged into darkness. No! Being alone and trapped was horrible enough! I didn't want to be in the dark as well! I was completely exposed! What if something came out and grabbed me?! _

_I looked around blindly, trying to find a source of light. The lights flickered again and suddenly came back at full blast, but my relief didn't last more than a second. The lights weren't white anymore. They were red. A dark, pulsing red. _

_I searched each of the hallways, trying to see if anything had changed in the darkness. They were still empty and they still had doors on either side, but for some reason I felt like they had changed. Was I somewhere else? Or was it the light? _

_Yes, the red glow was doing something. It was like it was warping everything around me. The hallways weren't straight anymore. They wavered and twisted as I looked at them. The pulsing light caused strange shadows to play across the floor, even though there was nothing in them to create shadows. It made me feel sick. _

_I wrapped my arms around myself and sunk to the ground. What was happening? Why was this happening? Where was I? I wanted to go back home! _

_That last thought startled me out of my panic. Home? Where was home? What was home? Was it behind one of these doors? Was that what I was trying to find? For some reason I couldn't remember. It was like I had always been here, here in this strange place of hallways and doors. _

_And a red, pulsing light. _

_But I had a home, right? Somewhere? I had to find it. I had to look for it. Even though the hallways spun, even though the shadows were starting to creep towards me across the floor…A jolt of fear brought me to my feet. The shadows were moving. They were coming closer. They were reaching for me!_

_The closest ones shot forward, trying to grab at my ankles. I stumbled back and then turned and ran down the nearest hallway. Doors whipped past me on both sides as I practically flew down the hall. I glanced back but instantly regretted it. Not only did my view spin sickeningly but I could see the shadows were following me. And they were gaining. _

_I cried out and threw myself into a new corridor on my right. I tripped in my haste and crashed into the ground, sliding along the floor until I slammed into the opposite wall. The fall left me stunned and I struggled to focus again. I had to move. The shadows were coming! Get up, I told myself. GET UP! _

_I managed to sit up. My body had twisted around when I fell and now I was facing the way I had come. I looked in that direction and my heart sank to the pit of my stomach. _

_The shadows had overtaken the hall I had come from. They were suffocating the red light, turning it almost black. My chest constricted and I pressed myself against the door behind me. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. They were so close and I had no way to fight them off! I watched with horror as they crept closer, sliding along the floors, walls, and ceiling. They were closing in on me from all directions, leaving me nowhere to go. I pushed myself even harder against the door behind me, desperately wanting to escape, for all of it to disappear. _

_And then I heard a click._

_The door behind me suddenly swung inward and I fell back, but instead of hitting the floor on the other side, I continued to fall. I was falling…I watched the door frame rise above me as I tumbled down into an abyss. An abyss glowing with a sparkling purple light…_

"Wake up, freak."

I opened my eyes and saw the Ice Woman standing over me. She was clothed in a blue sundress that matched her eyes, her hair down and curled. It was a startling contrast to the look of disdain on her face, which stood out sharp and hard against the soft appearance. I shrunk into the couch, pinned under her gaze. The dream was still fresh in my mind and I couldn't help but think of her as one of the shadows trying to grab me.

She crossed her arms. "It's time for the watch dog to be at his post." She gave a flick of her head towards the door behind her. We were in the largest room in the building behind the warehouse. I had been sleeping on the couch against the wall. On the other side of the room was a card table, a few rusting folding chairs, and a fridge that had definitely seen better days.

I understood her order and got to my feet. It was time to do my job again. I left the room, turned left, and went through the door into the warehouse. As soon as it shut behind me I mentally reached for my ghost half. Two white rings sprung to life and swept over me, changing my t-shirt and jeans into the form-fitting hazmat suit of my ghost half.

I didn't know why that was what my ghost side wore. Was it what I was wearing when I became this way? But I didn't remember anything before being a half-ghost. I wasn't sure if I had ever been just one or the other. For all I knew I was always this way. As usual, it left me with a lot of questions. Questions that couldn't be answered, and so were best ignored. Right now I had to focus. I had a job to do.

Floating up, I looked around to see who had taken my place while I slept. To my surprise, I saw the last member of the group I protected sitting on a rusting forklift to the right of the room. He looked very similar to the Big Man. Both of them had dark hair, though the Big Man cut his so it was very short while this one let it grow long enough that it curled. They both shared the same gray eyes, but this one wore glasses. And his eyes were always hard. Hard, and usually angry. That's why I called him the Angry One.

I hesitantly flew towards him. When I was a few feet away, I slowed down and dropped to the ground. He was looking the other way and I waited, unsure if I should speak or not. After a few moments he turned his head in my direction. He inhaled sharply when he saw me standing there and gave me a dirty look.

"Don't do that," he snapped. "It's bad enough I have to do this while you take a nap when I could be doing **my** job; I don't need you sneaking up on me as well." My gaze dropped to my feet and I kept my mouth shut. This was usually the best way to deal with him.

He scoffed and stood up. I didn't move as he walked past me, keeping several feet of space between us, and remained still until I heard the click of the door. Then I stepped off the ground and into the air, my body relaxing as I floated higher. I liked it best when I was alone. Then I didn't have to worry about making _them_ mad. I could do what I wanted as long as I did my job.

And it meant that I was doing that well. If I was alone, no one else was here trying to discover what I protected. If I was alone, I was successful. I came to rest on top of a pile of boxes in the back corner of the warehouse, my forehead wrinkling as last night resurfaced in my mind. I hadn't been very successful the last few days. The girl—Sam—had come back and I hadn't been able to scare her away. She wasn't afraid of me and she planned on coming back. That was bad.

But, what was even worse was the fact that I...I couldn't quite get myself to hate the idea. It would be interesting. Different. Maybe even nice. I could even like it. Shame rose up within me at the mental admittance and I clamped down on those thoughts, my hands gripping the edge of the crate I sat on tightly. No. I couldn't. She couldn't come back. Her being here was wrong. It was against my job. She was dangerous to _them_. She was dangerous to me. I had to make her stay away.

I had to be alone. Being alone was good.

Being alone was also…lonely. Being around _them_ didn't make it better. Usually it only made it worse. Sam wasn't like them. She wasn't afraid of me and she didn't hate me…yet. She even thought my abilities were cool. She asked me about them—**asked** about them! No one else had ever done that. She was…she was nice. Having her come back would be nice.

My stomach swirled uneasily. But that would be bad. I needed to do my job and force her away somehow. _They_ weren't always nice to me but they needed me. I couldn't fail them just because it would make me feel better. I had to be strong, strong like I was at the beginning of last night when she had come. Somehow I had lost all of that so quickly. She kept asking questions, questions I couldn't answer. I couldn't figure it out and so I couldn't deny her.

What would happen if she came back? I loosened my grip on the crate and instead wrapped my arms around my queasy stomach. I had no answer and I couldn't ask _them_ to tell me what to do. That would mean admitting I had failed and _he_ would be so angry... No, I had to do this on my own. I had to make things right. But how? I had no idea how to push her away when I couldn't scare her. It was all I had been told to do. When that didn't work, what did I do then?

* * *

><p>Evening came and then night fell. <em>They<em> left one by one, each giving a nod or a short word to each other. Nothing to me, but that was expected. _He_ came out last as always and made sure to remind me of my responsibility. When he left he took the box that contained the red glow with him. That always made me feel a little better. It made me feel like I was really alone.

Through the windows along the top ends of the walls I could see the lights of the city. If I turned my head the other direction I could see the darkness that was the sea and the smallest pinpoints of lights. Stars. I didn't see them very often, but I loved the stars. I didn't really know why, but I felt like they were calling to me in a way, like they wanted me to come to them. Or maybe it was just that I wanted to go to them. It made me feel wistful.

I lost track of time, alternating between watching the view outside the dirty windows and scanning the warehouse for intruders. Nothing moved and I couldn't hear anything but the distant hum of cars and steady lapping of the waves on the docks. The night was calm, which was how I liked it best. I sat contentedly on one of the rafters, letting my mind go blank as the minutes passed.

I had almost fallen into a state of half-sleep when I heard a sharp squeal. I jolted from the unexpected noise and instinctively went invisible. I looked down to see light from outside spilling in from a crack in the door at the front of the building. A head of dark hair poked in and glanced around. Sam.

Excitement, stress, and fear all swelled up in me at once and momentarily paralyzed me. What should I do? I hadn't been able to come up with an answer all day. Now I was out of time. I should just tell her to go, but…_they_ weren't here so they weren't in any direct danger, right? The leader of _them_ always told me my job was still important at night, but that was because I had to protect them and the back area where they worked. Having someone here in the front wasn't **technically** bad. If she was here to see me and not because she was trying to learn about _them_, then was she really a danger?

"Hello? Halfa?" I felt a little thrill hearing her say my 'name' and was sidetracked from my internal musings. When _they_ said Halfa, it seemed mocking, but not when Sam did. Why was it she didn't hate me? Why wasn't she afraid? It still just **baffled** me. It went against everything I knew about humans and ghosts.

I slowly descended to the level of the crates and moved closer to her. She was wandering through the front part of the room, her purple eyes searching blindly. When I was a few feet away she paused and a smile curled her lips up. I was still amazed at the difference between her and _them_. She smiled so…happily.

"Hello," Sam said. It wasn't a question or a call. It was a greeting. She had done it again; she had sensed me. Knowing it was useless to pretend I wasn't here, I let go of my invisibility and watched as her smile grew into a full grin as she turned towards me.

I licked my lips. I really shouldn't be doing this. Even if I didn't know why, it was my job to make people leave **at all times**. She had to go. But how? **How**? My mind whirled in the same indecisive circles it had all day. Stalling, I replied, "Hi."

"I still can't get over how cool it is that you can just go invisible like that," she shook her head, still smiling. "I really wish I could do that sometimes."

The unexpected compliment scattered my thoughts, leaving me to stare blankly at her as a warm tingling crept up my neck and cheeks. It took me several moments to recognize the sensation. I think…I was blushing. The thought only made the feeling grow more intense and I was grateful suddenly for the darkness. Embarrassed, I quickly threw out, "Why?"

I regretted it instantly, my mouth snapping shut as soon as the word left my mouth. What was I doing?! I shouldn't be asking her questions. I needed to find a way to get her to leave! Even though I had no idea **how**…

"Because it would be **so** nice when I want to get away from my parents," she answered, seemingly oblivious to my discomfort. "Right now I have to use a rope ladder to get out of my room if I'm grounded—not that I use it that often, but it's there in case of emergencies."

She moved a little further into the room as she spoke and hopped onto one of the crates to my right, her legs swinging over the side. "But to be able to just go invisible **and** intangible," she continued, snapping her fingers, "that would make things so much easier."

Now what did I do? She was sitting down! I should've stopped her…but it's too late now. I wasn't going to be able to make her leave, was I? She had told me so last night. I had hoped I'd find a way around her words, but I couldn't. I couldn't figure out how and I was tired of spinning in circles. Should I just…let it happen? It couldn't be really bad. She wasn't going near the back, right? I was still keeping _them_ safe.

I hung in the air, all my muscles stretched taunt at that thought. Maybe…? Maybe I should…Exhaling slowly I carefully sank down onto a box several feet away from Sam. I would talk to her—just for a little bit. My fingers weaved together tightly in my lap, my shoulders hunched. Just for a moment…

I let myself actually consider her comment. With a swallow I asked, "Why would you want to get away from your parents?"

"What teenager doesn't want to get away from their parents sometimes?" she asked with a shrug. The casual response surprised me. I couldn't imagine a better thing than to have two people who loved you and cared for you.

"I dunno," I mumbled, "but if I had parents, I don't think I'd want to leave them."

"Do you—did you have parents?" Her tone was hesitant, her eyebrows drawn together. It was something I had often pondered; did I have parents at some point? If I did, who were they? Did they miss me? But…

I shrugged. "I don't remember." For all I know I never did.

"Do you remember anything before you became a ghost?"

"No," I looked down at my hands. Nothing but blinding pain.

"How long have you been a ghost?"

She sure asked a lot of questions. I didn't think I had ever talked so much as I had in the last couple of days. It wasn't my job to **talk** to people. My stomach flip-flopped uneasily at the reminder, but I ignored it. Talking about this wasn't bad. I hoped. "I don't really know. I can remember back to two years ago. That's it."

"Huh," she said thoughtfully. "I wonder why that is…" As she said that she pulled off the small purple backpack she had on. It was in the shape of a fuzzy spider with two eyes. What a strange shape for a backpack, and yet it fit her. Sam was a bit strange herself.

She pulled out a plastic bag and opened it, drawing out an orange stick. She stuck it in her mouth and held out the bag towards me. "Want one?"

I blinked. "What is it?"

"Carrot sticks."

My stomach growled quietly. I was often hungry. I had to wait for one of _them_ to bring me food, so it was usually sporadic. It would be great to eat something, but was it really okay if I did? Would she take that as a sign that I accepted her coming here? But, wasn't I already kinda doing that by talking to her?

"Come on," she shook the bag a little. "Take one. I brought plenty. I mean, if you want it. I guess I don't know if ghosts eat or not."

"Um…I do," I told her. I didn't move, still hesitating, but my stomach squeezed painfully and I relented. "Okay." I shyly floated over to her and carefully pulled one out of the baggie. I took a bite and munched on it quietly.

"Good, huh?" she grinned at me, her expression strangely triumphant. I was still chewing so I nodded in agreement. She shook her head and sighed, her expression changing to one of humor. "Now why can't I get Tucker to see that?"

I swallowed. "He's the one that came with you the first time?"

"Yeah."

"You called him a wimp." The words jumped out before I could stop them and I stiffened. That was rude. Would it make her leave? Was that bad?

She smiled wryly, not looking offended at all. "Yeah, I guess that's not very nice, but best friends can be a little mean to each other sometimes. Helps motivate them to be better." I relaxed and swallowed my carrot. It was good, but it was small and now my stomach wanted more. My eyes slid to the bag. Could I have more?

Like she could hear my thoughts, Sam asked, "Want another one?" She held out the bag again and I grabbed one, a faint smile twisting my mouth. "Here," she patted the crate she was sitting on. "Sit down."

If my heart pumped in my ghost form, I think it would have skipped a beat. Did she ask what I thought she asked? But no one wanted me that close to them. All of _them_ kept their distance. They said it was weird being near a ghost. Wrong, even. And I knew that I made them feel cold.

Sam was looking at me expectantly, her hand still resting on the spot she had patted. I slowly moved forward and sat down next to her. She plopped the bag of carrots down between us and continued to eat the one in her hand, her eyes wandering around the darkened room. I was frozen beside her. There were only a few inches of space between us and I couldn't help but notice every movement she made. What if she touched me?

Then again, she hadn't run away the last time. She had grabbed me instead! I had no context to help me with this purple-eyed girl.

"So…" she gave me a sideways look. "What do you **do** all day?" I opened my mouth but she cut me off, "I know you do your 'job,' but it's not like you have people coming around all the time that you need to scare away. What do you do when you're not doing that?"

"I…" I tried to think of what exactly I did. "I like to practice my powers. This place is really big and I can fly around inside. I like that. I also have to eat and sleep sometimes."

"Ghosts sleep?"

"…Yeah." Actually, I didn't know if full ghosts slept. I just had to for my human half.

"But…" she made a face like she was thinking hard. Then she pressed her lips together and shook her head. I gave her quizzical look. What was that about? But she didn't elaborate. Instead she said, "Okay, so you sleep and you eat…what else?"

"I explore," I continued. "Like, I looked inside these boxes." I tapped the side of the crate we were sharing.

"What did you find?"

I shrugged. "Not much. Bunch of random stuff. I think this might have been for a hardware store or a furniture store. There are lots of supplies but none of it put together."

"Huh," she studied the crates surrounding us with vague interest. "Anything else? If you're doing this all day and night, that's a lot of hours to kill."

"Um…" Well the other thing I did was interact with _them_, but I couldn't tell her that. She couldn't know anything about them. That thought sent me falling back into my earlier thoughts, guilt surging within me.

What I was doing right now was wrong. Having Sam here put _them_ in danger. I was failing at my job…But I wasn't. Not really, I reminded myself. _They_ weren't here. I was not speaking about them. Sam had never seen them, never heard them, and she wasn't asking about them. I could feel an ache between my eyes as the two sides resumed their battle. Was I putting _them_ in danger or was it okay to let Sam be here when they weren't? Was it so wrong to let me be with someone, the one person that I knew of that didn't seem to hate me? Was I failing at my job by doing that?

"Halfa?" Sam leaned forward, trying to look at my face. I had been looking down at the carrot stick in my hands, my white hair hiding my eyes from view. I turned my head a bit so I could peek through my bangs. "What's wrong?"

Could I tell her? No. That meant talking about _them_. I was already letting her in here, letting her see me, talking to her; at the very least I couldn't tell her about them. I forced the frown on my face up into a weak smile. "Nothing."

She narrowed her eyes in a way that showed she obviously didn't buy it, but she didn't argue either. Instead she looked away, her expression turning thoughtful. "So…" she began again. "Why do they call you Halfa?"

I tensed at her words. What did she mean 'they'? Did she mean _them_? Was she asking about them? I could not talk about the people I protected. What did I do now?! No, wait. I tried to reign in my panic. She didn't know about them, she probably meant it in a generic way. Relief relaxed me, but only for a second before a new wave of alarm overtook me.

Because answering the question meant telling her what I was. I couldn't tell her about that. Half human, half ghost. What would she think of me if she knew the truth? If she knew that I was the unnatural mix of two very different races, an impossibility…a freak? Sam was waiting for an answer and I felt obligated to say something, but the thought of sharing that with her terrified me. If she was willing to accept me as a ghost, that was amazing enough. Why try to push my luck and see if she would accept me if I was also part human? No. I couldn't.

"I don't want to talk about it," I whispered, my voice tight. I was looking down again, unwilling to meet her inquisitive gaze. There was a minute of silence and I wondered if I had upset her by not giving her an answer. Would she want to leave? I was having a harder time convincing myself that that was a good thing the more I talked to her.

Her hand moved into my vision and before I could register what she was planning she covered mine, which had been slowly squeezing the carrot stick into mush. I started and jerked my head up to look at her. Purple eyes, soft and creased with an emotion I didn't know, stared back. She was warm…she was so close! I couldn't move, couldn't think. I couldn't comprehend what she was doing. She had grabbed my hand-**again**! It was unthinkable. Why would she do this? Didn't it feel strange? Didn't it scare her?

She squeezed my hand gently and smiled, some of the intensity in her eyes fading. "Okay," she said, her tone understanding. "We don't have to." She was just accepting it. She was telling me it was okay even though I wasn't telling her everything. Even though I was a half-ghost and keeping secrets and being unhelpful…she wasn't angry. She wasn't yelling or glaring at me. She was right here, next to me, **touching** me.

The experience was so unexpected and so unusual for me that it almost made me cry. I could feel the tightening in my throat and the stinging at the corners of my eyes. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my emotions under control. I couldn't cry, not in front of her. I didn't cry in front of anyone.

There was a low beeping noise from Sam's other side and the sound broke the moment. She withdrew her hand and turned in that direction. I looked away, taking deep breaths to try and force the urge to cry from my throat so I could speak again. She sighed and I turned back to face her. In her hands was her phone and she was looking at the screen with disappointment.

"I have to go," she said. I nodded mutely, still unsure if I could talk without my voice cracking.

"I'll come back another night," she continued. Her voice twisted up at the end almost like it was a question and not a statement. She was asking if it was okay. Well, that was different. Before she had argued and overwhelmed me, now she was asking. She was giving me another way to make her go. A way to do my job properly. I should take it. I should really take it, but…

I didn't want to. The idea of her never coming back, of going back to the normal routine all the while knowing she was out there in that glittering city, a girl that didn't hate me… I felt a pang of sadness at the idea. No, I wanted her to come back. Despite everything, I wanted it. As long as I made sure to never talk about _them_ and as long as she came when they weren't here, it could be okay. At least, that's what I wanted to believe. That's what I hoped.

Hope. I was hoping.

"Okay," I answered, my voice quiet but strangely not hesitant.

She paused, her eyes studying me for a moment before her face broke out into a smile.

"Okay." She grabbed her backpack and swung it onto her shoulders. She then turned and headed for the door. I noticed the bag of carrots was still sitting on the crate and I picked them up.

"Wait," I called. She looked back and I held up the bag.

She waved a hand. "Keep them."

I let my arm drop and held the bag against my chest. Gratitude rose up in me—not only because of the food but because…because she didn't hate me and accepted me—at least as much of me as she knew. And she had touched me—**twice** without flinching or disgust. She was being so nice. I should say something…

She had reached the door at this point. I floated closer, landing about five feet away from her. I opened my mouth to speak, but found myself at a loss for what to say. Sam glanced back as she pushed down on the handle and pulled it open. She gave me another smile, one filled with warmth that made her eyes scrunch up, and then disappeared through the opening, the door sliding shut behind her.

I shuffled my feet. "Thanks…" I whispered.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Tucker<strong>_

"Hey Tucker!" I turned around at the familiar voice and saw Sam waving at me as she made her way through the crowd of students around me. The last bell had rung and everyone was making the usual rush to escape school property as quickly as possible. I stopped—earning a few bumps from people pushing past me—and waited for her to catch up.

"Hey," I responded when she was at my side. We moved forward with the flow of the crowd as it headed for the front doors.

"So done with Lancer's paper yet?" Sam asked.

"Almost. How about you? You're probably done already, huh?"

"Well, not really. I've been kind of busy the last few nights…" She trailed off and I quickly understood what she was referring to. I couldn't help but frown. If only she knew just how dangerous it was to be around ghosts.

She peeked at my expression and quickly added, "So tonight it will be me, my computer, and Shakespearean literature. Joy." Her tone twisted sarcastically at the end. I could tell she was trying to avoid the subject, which was probably for the best. I didn't want to argue with her about it. I had already decided that she could do what she wanted as long as she didn't seem to be in any immediate danger. So far I hadn't seen a reason to stop her. I took her lead and kept the conversation on homework.

"At least you have Romeo and Juliet," I said. "That one's easy. I, on the other hand, have Much Ado About Nothing. Who's even **heard** of that one?"

She shook her head. "I'd take that over Romeo and Juliet any day. It's so cliché **and** that means I'm in a group with **Paulina**." She made a face.

We exited out the front doors as I asked, "And those two reasons are bad because…?"

She rolled her eyes and gave me a shove. I staggered away from her, grinning.

"Because if I have to hear Paulina babble on about finding her Romeo one more time, I'll help her reenact the ending of that play."

"Aw come on, it can't be that bad."

"Oh, it was," she said darkly.

I laid arm around her shoulder. "Then be glad it will all be over tomorrow." Sam looked at the arm and then sent me a look. I immediately took it back. "Okay, well I'll see you later…" I turned away towards the left.

"Wait, where are you going?" she questioned. "Don't you normally take the bus?" I paused and looked back at her. Yes, I usually did take the bus, but I wasn't going home. I had somewhere else I wanted to visit. The thought brought on a mix of emotions and I clamped down on them quickly.

"Yeah, but I got something else I need to do," I told her. She gave me an inquisitive look but didn't ask me to elaborate, for which I was grateful. I didn't really want to have to explain.

"Okay, I'll see you later," she gave me a wave and turned the other way. I waved briefly and then turned in the direction I was headed. Someday, maybe when it didn't hurt so much, I could tell Sam about what happened. But at the moment it was still too close to me. Two years…I couldn't believe it had been that long.

The sidewalk I was on led past the school parking lot. I glanced over it as I was walking and paused as I recognized one of the vehicles and the girl walking up to it. I changed directions and headed for her.

"Jazz, hi," I called out as I came closer. She looked up, one hand digging through her purse.

"Oh, hi Tucker," she greeted me. She pulled out her keys and unlocked the door.

"I was just going to head over to your house," I told her as she unloaded her bag into the back seat. "Can I get a ride?"

She straightened up and gave me a searching look. Then she gave me a small smile and said, "Sure." I returned the smile and slipped into the passenger seat. The trip to the Fenton's household wasn't long and I could see the overbearing structure that sat on top of their house within minutes. We parked in their garage and I followed Jazz into the house.

"Do you want something to eat?" she asked as I she made her way into the kitchen.

I was close behind. "Yeah, that'd be great."

"Mom made some cookies," she said as she rummaged through the fridge, eventually pulling out a gallon of milk. "They haven't moved or tried to eat us yet, so they should be okay." Only at the Fenton's was that a normal comment...But if Jazz was okay with them, they were probably fine. I sat down at the table and she joined me with the milk and a container from the counter. We munched on the snack for a few moments in silence. I could tell that Jazz had something to say and, knowing her, if I waited she was bound to bring it up.

"So how's school?" Okay, not exactly the question I was expecting but much easier to answer.

"Fine," I replied, grabbing another cookie. "You?"

"Good…" she said distractedly. She definitely had something else she wanted to ask.

"Um…" Here we go. "How is…everything else?" I met her eyes and then my own dropped to my cup.

"Fine—good…things are good." I looked up and gave her a half-smile. She returned the expression.

"Yeah, me too." She sighed. "But it's hard."

"Yeah." We were silent for a while. Then I said, "It's coming up—the date."

"Two and a half weeks."

"I…I just wanted to come over and see…" I shrugged. I didn't really know what I wanted. I just had to come over. The Fentons were the only ones who understood how I felt, who knew what had happened and were just as greatly affected by it as I was. They were the ones who understood how much it hurt still, despite the fact that it would be two years in a few weeks.

Two and a half weeks until the anniversary of Danny's disappearance. Danny…my best friend.

"I know," Jazz murmured. "I don't know if we will really…do something but you can come over that day if you want."

"Yeah, I think I will." We fell into another comfortable silence, as comfortable as it could be at least when our minds were on this subject. After a while I realized just how odd this was. Silence was a rarity at the Fenton household.

"Where are your parents?" I asked.

Jazz sighed again. "Ghost hunting."

"Oh." I wasn't sure how I felt about that. After Danny had vanished his parents had stopped their work—and with good reason. For months they refused to go down into the lab or up to the Ops Center, that crazy thing on their roof. They wouldn't touch their inventions or even say the word. Jazz had been really concerned.

Then, it was like everything switched. They suddenly became obsessed with it all over again. Jazz had been even more worried, but then she came up with a theory. Ghost fighting was their way of coping, she told me. Not because they could escape from what happened, but because they could prevent something like it from happening to someone else. I was glad they were out there, trying to stop ghosts, but I couldn't help but think that they were almost…ignoring what had happened. I mean, it was their interest in ghosts that played a large part in what had happened to him.

"Ghostly activity has been increasing steadily," Jazz informed me. "They've been watching it and ever since…well, you know, they've seen the ecto-energy levels rise and more and more ghosts are showing up. They're doing their best to keep it under control."

I thought of Sam and her ghost she was visiting. I wondered if they would go after it. I couldn't decide if I liked that idea or not. On the one hand, that was one less ghost we'd have to worry about. On the other hand, Sam would be mad.

Jazz continued, "And because of all the ghost activity, the Guys in White built that 'hidden' base out here." She shook her head. "Mom and Dad aren't the best hunters, but I think they might even be worse." That was probably true. They may be government agents, but they sure didn't act like they had received any useful training. On the other hand…

"They have some pretty cool gadgets though," I said, my tone turning wistful. Jazz gave me a look. "What?" I asked defensively, "I'm not saying I like them, but have you **seen** what they carry? Not that I have…but I've read about it. And seen pictures…"

She rolled her eyes. "Anyways, my parents are out there doing that now. They'll be back for dinner if you want to stay for a while."

I didn't consider it for very long. "I think I'll go. If I stay, your dad will want to show me all his new inventions. He keeps telling me they only hurt ghosts, but I have scars to prove otherwise."

She chuckled. "Okay, then did you want me to drive you home?"

"Naw, I'll walk." She followed me to the front door and shut it behind me as I left. As I started on the walk home my thoughts drifted back over the conversation. I liked Mr. and Mrs. Fenton well enough but I was serious about avoiding the ghost inventions. In fact, I tried to stay as far away as I could from most ghost-related things.

Normally I didn't even like to talk about it. I could only do it with Jazz and her parents because they understood what I felt about it. That's why I was so reluctant to talk to Sam about her ghost…friend, or whatever it was. She thought ghosts were interesting, she didn't think of them as dangerous. How wrong she could be.

I knew just how bad it could be to get caught up in something ghostly. I knew from firsthand experience, and I was going to make sure that never happened again.


End file.
